


Faith

by wingedknightRose



Category: Fire Emblem Heroes
Genre: Gen, Gender-Neutral Summoner | Eclat | Kiran, What else is new, gustav is a bit of a jerk, set a couple chapters into book 1, supportive friends are supportive, you can take this as a pre-shippy thing if you want
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:13:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26351719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wingedknightRose/pseuds/wingedknightRose
Summary: Gustav doesn't believe in the Summoner. Alfonse does.The Summoner doesn't really believe in themselves, but they do believe in Alfonse.
Relationships: Alfonse & Summoner | Eclat | Kiran
Kudos: 34





	Faith

“—not consider the consequences of your actions, and now see what it has brought you. A burden you would not have had holding you back had you taken the time to think it through.”

The Summoner stopped, glancing to the side. One of the windows was cracked open, letting in the fresh air of spring into the keep of the Order. From it drifted a gruff voice, one they didn’t recognize. It sounded like it was someone that was used to being heeded and obeyed, someone that thought they had the right perspective. Probably somebody important. Not that the Summoner knew anything about anything around here. The only important people in the grand scheme of Askr that they’d met in the couple of months they’d been here had been Alfonse and Sharena.

“…I understand, Father.”

Speaking of Alfonse! That was him speaking! And…that meant the gruff voice belonged to the king?

It wasn’t their business, and really, they had enough to try and deal with without worrying about the politics of Askr. But…they found themselves sliding up to the side of the window and peeking through anyways. They didn’t even know why. They didn’t have a dog in this fight. Alfonse was alright, but he kept his distance, and they didn’t have it in them to really break from that. Too tired trying to adjust.

Below was a small walkway, leading away from the keep towards the main courtyard, the smithy, and the like. The man that must’ve been the king of Askr stood with his back to their window, shoulders squared and arms crossed before him. He radiated disappointment. The Summoner cringed a little just seeing his posture. They didn’t envy Alfonse right now.

The prince they’d come to know was standing almost like he was in the military…parade rest, they called it? He was watching his father carefully, but the way he held himself was almost _too_ stiff. Alfonse always held himself with some formality, but this was different. It was like he was bracing for…something.

They didn’t like it.

“Do you? You have a charge to look after, someone who has no experience or skill in the fields you need, now attached to a role only the greatest of men could hope to fill. Do you know what it will do to morale, to see a supposed figure of legend wandering around like a lost child?”

Oh. They were…they were talking about the Summoner. They were talking about _them_. They glanced down and away, shoulders slumping. Suddenly they felt so _tired_. They knew they weren’t enough, but it still…kinda hurt to hear it spoken so plainly. Not only were they not good enough for the role that the legendary weapon had picked them for, now Alfonse was getting in trouble because of it, when all he'd ever done was try and help. They brought their arms up to wrap around themselves and turned to leave. They’d heard enough.

“That is not true.”

Alfonse’s voice, firm as it was, froze them in place.

“It is true that the one the Breidablik called is not the unerring figure of the legends. But they are a hard-working, caring individual. The people see how dedicated they are to improving, and how devoted they are to their cause, and they have faith.”

They turned back, peeking out the window again. Alfonse was staring up at his father, that steely glint in his eyes that had started to become familiar to them. This was something he wasn’t backing down on.

“Faith will not win a war, Alfonse.”

“It will not lose one, either.”

Their fingers tightened on their sleeves. Alfonse believed in them that much? They were still struggling with anything beyond the most basic of tactics, and Alfonse still thought that highly of them? They let out a shaky breath.

“So I am to believe a stranger with no experience with war and a foolish prince will stop Embla?”

Alfonse visibly winced at that. They felt their teeth grit. What was the king getting at? They’d been winning, despite the setbacks caused by the Summoner’s ignorance and inexperience. They’d managed to free a couple of worlds from Veronica’s contracts already. That wasn’t _nothing!_ Those were victories! Victories that had largely been earned when Alfonse had stepped in to help them when they were floundering! Why was the king acting like all they’d been doing was tripping over their own feet?

Why couldn’t he spare a single word of praise for his own son?

Alfonse had recovered quickly. “We have already driven them back multiple times.”

“You have driven back token forces in skirmishes. Do you know where their main forces are, Alfonse? How Veronica manages to get to each of those gates undetected?”

“Our scouts send word of her—”

“—Too late for you to do anything be react to what she has already done,” the king cut off Alfonse, and the Summoner felt their nails digging into skin through their sleeves. Every effort, downplayed. No acknowledgment that they could respond quickly enough to mitigate damage, no commendation for cleaning up the messes quickly. No praise for the fact that Alfonse was _trying_. Who let this man be a parent? King or not, if nothing your kid did was good enough for you, you didn’t deserve to have kids! “Before long, the Emblan forces will catch you off guard, and then others will pay for your mistakes. Are you willing to inflict the cost of your naivety upon others, Alfonse? Was the one summoned by Breidablik not lesson enough?”

They watched Alfonse cringe, just slightly. He was fighting to keep a stony expression, but he was chagrined and they could tell. Which meant that his father could tell, too.

It took a monumental effort on their part not to rip the window open and start shouting at the king for being a terrible parent. Only by constantly reminding themselves that doing such would likely make things worse for Alfonse did they manage it.

No _wonder_ neither Alfonse or Sharena talked about their dad much.

They were so focused on reigning in their temper, they missed the last exchange. Something about how the king didn’t want to speak to Alfonse again until his “foolishness had run its course”. The Summoner bit their tongue, squeezing their eyes shut for a moment and forcibly reminding themselves that hurling themselves out the window at the king _would_ be taken as an assassination attempt and would probably get them killed. Yelling at him to take care of the problem himself if he was so big and strong was also probably a bad idea.

After the king’s footsteps faded, they peeked out again. Alfonse was still there, but he wasn’t standing straight anymore. He’d slumped, his gaze downcast and expression forlorn. He didn’t look devastated…more resigned. Like this was something he was used to.

That just made them upset all over again. They almost called out to him, but decided against it. Knowing that someone had seen any of that would only make him feel worse.

So they turned and walked away, fists clenched at their sides.

* * *

“Alfonse!”

The Askran prince turned at the voice that was starting to become familiar. The Summoner approached him at a light jog, face set in a serious expression under their hood. He wondered what that was all about, and if he could redirect them to Commander Anna. It had been a couple hours since his conversation with his father, but he was still tired from it. He wasn’t up to guiding the Summoner through whatever they were troubled with right now. He knew he should push past his own misgivings and help them, that was his responsibility as the one that had brought them here, but—

—But nothing he did would ever be enough, so what did it matter? He’d already done them irreparable harm. They would no doubt prefer the company of Sharena or Commander Anna to a fool of a prince like him.

But he was still a prince, and he had a duty to fulfill, so he forced his lips to curl in the smile he used for diplomatic pleasantries and turned towards them. “Yes, Summoner? What do you need?”

They skidded to a halt next to him, staring intently, and suddenly Alfonse got the feeling that they were seeing _through_ him. Like they knew the smile was a mask, and could peel it away and see how tired he was underneath. They opened their mouth, and he didn’t know what was coming but he felt like he should be bracing himself—

“I wanted to say thanks.”

That…had not been what he was expecting. Which was impressive, because he had no idea what he _had_ been expecting. “I…beg your pardon?”

“I wanted to say thank you,” the Summoner repeated, as if that offered any clarification whatsoever. Why would they…? “You—You’re always working so hard. You make sure everyone’s comfortable, and help me make sense of things like scout reports and supply lines, and you pick up the slack whenever I mess up, and I mess up a _lot._ ”

He wanted to protest that their mistakes were only natural, since they were a beginner, but the prince couldn’t seem to find his voice. The Summoner was staring him dead in the eyes, and he couldn’t recall them doing that before. He couldn’t recall them meeting _anyone’s_ gaze so directly, not even Sharena’s. They would only glance up fleetingly, and then return to staring at the floor in front of them. But now…now they were holding him in place with their eyes alone; bright, determined eyes that made him suddenly understand how books could describe a gaze as _piercing._

Alfonse couldn’t look away.

“You’re always going out of your way to help me out. You explain tactics that I don’t understand, or help me find books, or tell me about places in Askr. You must be so busy, but you still take the time to help me. And I just—I don’t have the words to tell you how much I appreciate it. I’d be floundering around lost without you.”

He wanted to protest, to say that the Commander would be able to manage them perfectly fine on her own. That Sharena was a far better guide than he was. That there were Heroes much more suited to tactics than he was. But in the face of their utter sincerity, he couldn’t find the words to deflect the praise.

“So I just—I wanted to say thank you. For looking out for me. Because I don’t—I don’t feel like I’m the right person for this. Not even close. But when you’re talking me through something, or helping me figure out how best to approach a problem, I feel like—I feel like I can _be_ that person, you know? Like if I work hard enough, I can be the Summoner you guys need. So…thank you. Really. I’m...still not sure about all of this, but I’m glad I’ve got you looking out for me. I think—I think with your support I can get through it.”

Distantly Alfonse thought that he must look like quite the fool, staring blankly at the Summoner as they spoke from the heart. It was a small blessing that his mouth had remained shut, instead of dropping open in shock. When their mouth curved into a smile, he took it as confirmation. So much for his princely image.

He’d had no idea the Summoner had drawn such strength from his presence. He hadn’t thought he was doing anything special, just what was in the best interest of the Order, really, but…to think it had had such a great impact.

Something warm settled into his chest, chasing away some of the lingering doubt from his father’s words.

“I’m, ah, glad that you feel that way,” he finally managed to reply, and could have kicked himself for how ineloquent he sounded. Ah, well, the Summoner had never seemed to care. “You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself, though. You learn swiftly, and have an aptitude for tactics. I’m happy to help you hone your skills.” It was…sort of deflecting, but he had no real idea how to respond to their gratitude.

They chuckled, and had he ever heard them do that before? He didn’t think so. Not without an edge of hysteria and despair, at least. “This is why you’re the best, Alfonse.”

That caught him completely off guard. Again. The best? That couldn’t be right. Alfonse had never been the best at anything, and likely never would be. He and the Summoner rarely spoke outside of business. How could they—why would they—

He couldn’t keep the smile off his face if he’d tried. His cheeks almost hurt from it. “I appreciate your words, Summoner, but I don’t think I’ve earned such high praise.”

“Yeah? Well, I disagree. I think you’ve earned it and more.” The utter certainty they retorted with almost made him gasp. Another first. “Anyways! I need to go do my patrols!”

The Summoner turned to leave, and normally Alfonse would let them, he had his own work to do and he didn’t want to spend _too_ much time with them, but—

“Would you mind company?” The words came almost unbidden, but he didn’t regret them. It wouldn’t hurt to do one patrol. Just the one to keep their spirits up. And his, as well, if he were being honest with himself.

The Summoner paused and turned back, still smiling. “You don’t have other things to do?”

“Nothing that can’t wait for an hour or so. Besides, it would take longer to find you if you got lost.”

The Summoner gasped, hand coming to clutch their chest in mock offense. “Mean!”

Alfonse found himself laughing, even as he stepped forward to join them.

He didn’t think he was the best anything, no matter what the Summoner said. But…a prince’s job was to guide and inspire his people, to do what he could to protect them and lift them up so they could thrive. He had never thought himself particularly good at it, but…he had managed to inspire the Summoner. Someone that by all rights should resent him for stealing them away from their home, for dragging them into a problem he should be able to handle himself, felt more confident when he was assisting them. That had to count for something.

Maybe he was a good prince after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, I love Alfonse, did ya'll know that? Well now you do.
> 
> Heroes just dumped a bunch of plot bunnies in my headspace, so I'm trying to sort through them all. Damnit, Heroes, I've already got things in the works I need to finish! Why can't you wait your turn?


End file.
